


096 - First Time Anticipation

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 03:16:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17438894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompt: "First time with Van” // Note: Instead of focusing on the actual sex, I’ve done the lead up.





	096 - First Time Anticipation

In the back of the taxi, as he wraps one arm around you, bringing you in closer, and leaves the other hand to rub circles and patterns across your thigh, you have a moment. You wouldn’t call it panic, but something along that spectrum. When he’d asked if you wanted to leave the bar, go someone else, you knew you should have said no because you knew he meant ‘do you want to come back to mine so we can fuck.’ You didn’t say no, though. You bit your lip, red from kissing, and nodded. You waved goodbye to your friends, who looked confused, and followed him into the taxi.

The reason you should not be here is because as a virgin, you have no idea what you are doing. You have three choices then. The first, get out right now. Fake sickness. Get out the taxi. Run. The second, just tell him. The boy may be biting bruises into your neck, but he’s sweet. The third, wing it? Try to guess how to have sex with a stranger effectively?

You get to his house before you have the chance to execute the first option. He tips the driver well, and leads you by the hand inside. He offers you a drink, and you accept. Maybe you should just get blind drunk and let whatever happens happen? You shudder at the thought. You doubt this guy is like that anyway. What is his name again?

The haze of lust clears while he lets you pick the music. You laugh with each other and compare tastes. He watches you with a warm smile as you settle on a playlist that is already in his iPod. You move to sit next to him on the couch. His feet are resting on the coffee table. He is sunken into the couch, and he looks up at you. He has a goofy look on his face, then his head slowly tilts his head to the side.

“You alright?” he asks. You nod. “You sure? We can go back to the bar if you want? To your friends?”

They are small words, small kindnesses, but they’re significant to you and you want him to have you for it. You shake your head no, and take a breath.

“I’m good. I want to stay. I just… There’s just something you should probably know,”

“You don’t have a boyfriend do you?” he asks and his voice goes high pitch in anticipated conflict.

“God, no. I’d never-”

“I didn’t think so, but I just- There was one time- Anyway. Doesn’t matter. Sorry, darlin’, keep going,” he said and made a weird motion in his hand to signal you to continue with your confession.

“Um. I just. Haven’t ever gone home with a stranger before,” you say, hoping that somehow he can read the specifics of the vague statement.

“Okay?” He seems confused as to why that would matter. “I’m not judging you or anything.” No luck. You’re going to have to be more clear.

“No, I mean like, I’ve never… done…” you space your words out with oceans between them.

“Oh!” he exclaims, suddenly aware. “Like, you mean, you’ve never… slept with anyone?” He doesn’t react, and it’s because he’s waiting for you to confirm. You give a small nod and avoid eye contact. “Okay. I’m still not judging you or anything. Um. What do you want… do to?” You look up. He’s watching you in the same happy, casual position. His face is open and curious, but not hopeful, or expectant. You go to say that you don’t know, but it must be written on your face. “Like I said, anytime you want to go back, that’s alright. If you want to stay we can just hang out, or um, whatever,”

“What would we probably be doing if I hadn’t just told you that?” you ask and hope it doesn’t sound like the verbal equivalent of the 'wot would u do if I were there haha’ fuckboy text. “Also, what’s your name again?” His face lights up with a grin, and he chuckles a little.

“Van. I’m Van. You’re Y/N. And, we’d probably just be making out. Maybe I’d try to get my hands under your shirt.”

It is honest and cute and wildly comforting. You have another drink, and walk around the living room looking at things. You flick through a stack of magazines, and pick up a few photo frames. The pictures are of families, so you assume they were a gift from his mum or dad.

“You’re makin’ me bit nervous,” he says, sitting on the arm of the couch watching you closely.

“Me?! Mate, I think if either of us should be freaking out, it should be me,”

“You’re not though. Stop. Come here,” he says standing. He takes your hips and brings you back over to the couch. He pushes you down and stands in front of you. “You play Fifa?” It isn’t what you thought he was about to say or do, and you laugh. You nod and shrug. He leans down and kisses you, hard, then quickly sets up a game. He easily wins and you pout.

“I think you’re meant to let me win?”

He laughs and you put the controller down. He looks at you and smiles and it’s half honey half wine. Van threads his fingers through yours and kisses you again. It is slow and steady and builds. When his hands find their way under your clothes, and you can’t find air, you press your head to his chest.

“Can I see your bedroom?” you ask.

“Are you sure?”

“Are you? I don’t want to make you feel like-” you start, giving him an out. Losing your virginity isn’t a huge deal to you. A social construct. It might be to him. Maybe there’s responsibility attached to popping that cherry Van isn’t down for. You want to tell him he doesn’t have to call, or anything. There’s no obligation.

“Yes. Whatever you want, I want. And, just so you know, like, I think you’re cool. So we should definitely hang out again,”

“Alright, mate, don’t get all mushy. Come on,” you laugh and stand. He smiles and leads you to his bedroom.


End file.
